Of Armistice and Retribution
by Huaile
Summary: A series of AUs: Heronstairs. (better summary inside)


**Hey guys, sorry for the long wait, buuut, as you can see- I'm back! (a few of you special ones knew before hand, you know who you are)**

**Guess what today is! My birthday! Anyway:**

**Much thanks to otakufujioshi, for all of the lovely reviews; this chapter is for you!**

**Special thanks as well to uchiha-bara, for being the first of the people I messaged to follow my blog- I've got a special something for you**

**And thanks to pokewarrior21, Alexandria Volturi, TickTockClockWork and Shardas for the speedy replies.**

**Chapter Summary: _Will checked his phone again, pocketing the device after a long moment of scanning the screen. It was a different job, but he knew not to question. He was to be the bodyguard of the next emperor of Shanghai, a man named Ke Jian Ming. Will would guard Jian for the weeks until the marriage deal was sealed (there was a heavy price for his head, him being so important), then, once Jian was wedded to his fiancee, Will would vanish again._**

**Something the lovely otakufujioshi brought to my attention was all the Chinese and Welsh phrases I used. So I'll have a word bank of sorts before every story. Tell me if I've missed anything, thanks!**

_Hongshaorou- _Hong Shao Rou is typically made with pork belly meat, a cut commonly used for making bacon. It is layered with fat and results in a very tender and flavorful pork dish. It is quite common to serve this dish with small steamed buns. The buns are often made from round dough folded into half circles resembling clam shells. One holds a piece of Hong Shao Rou in the steamed bun like hot dog in a bun.

_Xin Tai Ran-_a dessert; a rice cake stuffed with mochi and sweet jujubis and served in a sweet glaze

_Wǎn'ān-_goodnight

_Baozi-_Chinese dumplings, steamed or fried. They are usually stuffed with pork, beef and vegetables, and in addition provides a variety of Asian sauces such as soy-based sauce, chili, vinegar and sesame oil.

_Bean juice-_A grayish-green fresh ground mung bean juice that tastes slightly sour and sweet.

_Shàoyé zhānmǔsī! Nǐ de zài zhèlǐ- _Young master James! Your fiance is here!

_Tánghúlu-_a sweet developed from the simple sugar-covered hawthorn berries to a variety of candied fruits on a stick.

_fy cariad-_my love

_xiǎo lǎopó-_mistress

_Wǒ ài nǐ-_I love you

_fy annwyl-_my dear

_Wǒ ài nǐ, ó, wǒ shì duōme ài nǐ, wǒ zuì qīn'ài de wēilián-_I love you, oh how I love you, my dearest William

_Wǒ yě ài nǐ, Zhānmǔsī-_I love you too, James

**Now, without further ado; I present the first chapter of Of Armistice and Retribution**

* * *

It was early morning, so early the sun hadn't even risen yet. That was when the call came. A hand shot out from underneath a thick blanket and fumbled for the buzzing phone, which, when found, was dragged beneath the blankets again.

"_What._"

"There's a job-"

"Not interested." he was about to hang up, but the voice—X, he liked to call it, interrupted— "You mustn't refuse, William."

"And whyever not?"

"They'll kill her if you don't."

That made him freeze. _No. Not Cece._ X spoke again. "I assume you'll take it." His—or her—voice was grim, solemn.

Will hung up.

* * *

Will checked his phone again, pocketing the device after a long moment of scanning the screen. It was a different job, but he knew not to question. He was to be the bodyguard of the next emperor of Shanghai, a man named Ke Jian Ming. Will would guard Jian for the weeks until the marriage deal was sealed (there was a heavy price for his head, him being so important), then, once Jian was wedded to his fiance, Will would vanish again.

The plane ride from London to Shanghai was dreary and Will couldn't sleep—it was 11 long hours and he spent the hours reviewing everything on Jian, everything surrounding him. By the time the plane landed, Will knew everything about him—from his eating habits to what he did in his spare time. He was a rather boring man from what he'd read, though. At least it'd make the job easier, and the parting painless. Will took all of his personal feelings and pushed them to the back of his mind; no use having emotions here. He had to stay as detached as possible. Couldn't have another _accident_.

_Cece_.

Will allowed a brief moment to remember (_no, to warn himself_) before he forgot about her, too, until he could let himself relax his guard, even the tiniest bit. Jian was his charge now, and nothing else mattered except for that. Protect Jian, and then the man and his fiance would be out of his life forever.

...

The man that came to pick him up was stiff, blond haired and blue eyed. His eyes were cold and he gazed at Will with distrust, unease. "You are…?" it was spoken in broken English, a heavy accent on his lips. His voice drifted into a question, hard, cold.

Judging by his appearance, this would be Elias, Jian's uncle. "Elias Carstairs, your nephew, he will be safe with me, I swear, on my life." It was spoken in fluent Mandarin, and a blond eyebrow rose.

With that, the coldness in his voice melted, but only slightly. "You surprise me. You have prepared well, have you not?" Elias seemed relieved to be speaking in Mandarin, and he began walking, "your luggage is already being transported."

"And Jian?"

"What about him?"

"Where is he? I need to speak with him, to...overview things. Rules and such."

"Ah." That was all Elias would say.

The ride was tense, neither spoke, and Will was content with that. He allowed his mind to go blank for a long moment, and his eyes closed, giving the appearance of sleep—though he was still tense, each muscle poised and ready for any attack. His head gave the barest twitch at the slight _snick_ of a knife being drawn and he let himself remain still, waiting until after the rustle of clothing, until he could feel the air turn cold against his neck. Then his eyes shot open and he let his instincts take over, grabbing the arm and twisting it so sharply and suddenly that the dagger fell, clattering to the floor. Elias nodded at that.

"It was a test," he managed, "you will do well for Jian."

* * *

The barest smile twitched the corner of Elias' lips and he gestured to the heavy, glossed mahogany door. "He is inside."

Will nodded and the door silently swung open at his touch. There was a boy inside, facing away from them, and he didn't notice their entrance. When Will turned around, Elias was gone, but he didn't mind. Instead, just took another step forward to observe his new charge. He was bent over, headphones over his ears, and he was swaying slightly, playing an electric instrument—it looked like a violin. Will leaned against the wall to watch; even from the back, the boy was fully into his music...it was beautiful to watch. He'd have liked to stay there and just watch the boy all day, but then he began to cough violently, the violin and bow dropping from his trembling fingers. Will rushed forward, but he was already stilling, and the headphones had slipped from his ears with the force of his coughs.

"Jian?"

Jian whirled and Will had to hide a smile at the shocked expression on his pale face. "Who are you?" he spoke in English, the hint of a lilting Chinese accent still in his voice.

"William."

Jian nodded then, then spoke. "I assume Elias was the one to bring you here?"

"Yes."

Uncomfortable silence, and Jian regarded him with steady silvery eyes. He had an unusual coloring, his hair floated around his pale face in silvery-white locks, like an untarnished shilling. It made him miss the dark backways of London, and Gideon, even that brat Gabriel. His eyes were the same color, slightly lighter. Argent, Ella would have said, was the color.

Jian picked up his violin and fingered the strings lightly, holding the instrument gently. "Do you play anything?"

Will answered in Mandarin. "Only piano. I have not touched an instrument in years, though."

Pain in those silvery eyes. _He looked like a sad-eyed angel,_ Will mused, _and Ella would have loved him. Cece too._ He missed them-

_No_. "Ke Jian Ming…" Will said absently, "you look young for seventeen. Rather young for the next emperor."

"I know. And call me James. It was my mother's idea to give me such a...traditional name, but my father—he is British—wanted me to be James."

"British?"

"Yes...you are from England?"

"Wales, originally. I lived in London before coming here, though."

Jian—no, James—nodded. "Both places seem rather dreary," he said in disdain, "in comparison to Shanghai."

"That is so," Will mused, "it is rather colorful here. London is all gray and cloudy...Wales is all mountains and rivers. They are beautiful in their own way." Will had found he was relaxed, talking to this boy that was not much older than him. He seemed so young though.

A long silence, but not tense, like with Elias. Companionable, almost. "How long will you be here?"

"Only until after your marriage."

"Ah." James sounded disappointed, "nothing will make you stay?"

"I fear not…the price for my head is rather high. I would not want you to be caught up in it."

"And yet you guard me."

Will shrugged a shoulder. "They threatened to kill my sister if I declined."

A sharp intake of breath. "I apol-"

"I need no pity." Will spun away and James plucked the strings again. He heard a rustling of clothes and turned to see James standing, gently putting his violin and bow back in its case. His headphones rested on his mahogany desk, which had books neatly stacked on it. James seemed like a neat person—bad. Too predictable.

"How is your schedule?"

"Hm?" James didn't look up, just fingered with a jade ornate box.

"Do you have the same schedule every day?"

"Yes, almost."

"That will have to change." Will elaborated at the look he received, "the schedule is the easiest way to get killed. Many have been killed because of their predictable schedule. The assassin knew when their target would be, and where, and how much time they had for the kill. Too easy. And your music...keeping your door unlocked with your headphones on, you did not even notice when I came in. I was not even trying to be stealthy, anyone could have came in and killed you and you would not have even noticed. Can you defend yourself?"

James shook his head, frowning at Will's exhausted sigh. "Why would I need to if I have bodyguards?"

"What if no one is there? What if someone sneaks in while everyone sleeps, or gets you alone? Killers are not necessarily someone foreign. It could be anyone, envious of your title, or holding a grudge, or in it for money. Anything. From now on, you cannot trust anyone."

"Even you?"

It was bold, and it almost made the corner of Will's lips twitch up in a smirk. Almost. "Even me."

* * *

James, Will soon found out, had amazing stamina for someone who had never received battle training. He easily picked up every move Will threw at him in a matter of minutes, even executing them perfectly in sparring. But the heir raised an eyebrow skeptically when Will drew a pocket knife from his jeans and walked it between his fingers.

"I do not think I will be attacked with a pocket knife." His voice was lit up with amusement.

"Really," Will huffed, "you never know. Besides, learning how to handle a knife is still a useful skill."

"I know," James nodded slowly, "I am quite skilled in knife throwing." He plucked the knife from Will's fingers (the briefest brush of slim fingers against Will's left him reeling) and similarly, even quicker than Will had done, walked the knife absently. "I may not be quite as adept in any other fighting style, but knives," James tossed it in the air and effortlessly caught it by the handle, "are my forte."

It was surprising, but James nailed every target dead center, even on horseback. It was just past six by the time the two finished sparring (though most had been just clowning around, on James' part, and he was rather sickly) and the silver haired boy let out a long huff.

"You bastard! Not even sweating!"

Will shrugged a shoulder, trying—and failing—to keep the smirk from his face. "This was nothing, a warmup for me."

"Showoff," James grumbled, "now I need to shower. Again!" he threw his hands up and scowled, "which takes the place of my practising."

"You can practice later, Jem. Food is more important."

"...Jem?"

Will hadn't realized he'd unintentionally given James the nickname, but neither minded. "I like it. Call me Jem, from now on."

* * *

Dinner. Jem clapped when he saw his plate, a wide grin splitting his face. "_Hongshaorou_!" he looked at Will, beaming. "My favorite."

_Cute,_ Will couldn't help thinking. He banished the thought immediately—it wasn't out of denial, he knew of his sexuality (he had known he was bisexual ever since his..._fling_ with Jessamine, since that not-so-innocent kiss with Gideon), but he couldn't think of a charge that way. Couldn't risk his personal feelings taking over his strictly buisness feelings. To banish it, he took a piece of Jem's food and ate it, nodding his approval. It was sweet pork, tender and chewy. He could see why it was Jem's favorite, he was sure it would be his too.

That was cleared rather quickly, and Jem called for dessert. "_Xin Tai Ran._" Jem murmured, " I have not had this in ages. Colette must be in a good mood. She is Elias' wife. My aunt."

It was rather good as well, a rice cake with sweet glaze and sweets stuffed in the middle. A bit too sweet for Will's taste, but Jem ate his share quickly, and half of Will's as well. The silence afterward found Jem playing a song for Will, swaying slightly, taken away by his music. The melody was sweet, low, almost sultry, a summer love song, and Will found his gaze drawn to the way Jem seemed so relaxed as he played, so unguarded that it was practically a miracle he hadn't been killed already. The music stopped abruptly and Will started as Jem spoke.

"Play me a song, Will."

It was the first time in ages that someone had called him Will, the last person to do so had been Cece. It made him sigh, remembering her, but he pushed it away. "Do you have a piano?"

Jem nodded and stood, slipping past Will and out the door. "We have a music room, I used to play there with father, before he died." Jem's voice was colorless when he spoke of his father, and he sighed then, shaking his head, as if to banish the thoughts. "But anyway, here we are." Jem pushed open the heavy door and swept inside while Will scanned the room.

It was wide, open, painted a chrome white, sparse decorations keeping it a cool look- a obsidian piano was in the center of the room; Jem sat at its bench and beckoned to Will, eyes lit in nostalgia. It had been ages since Will had last played, he only realized that as he sat at the piano, his left leg pressing rather comfortably into Jem's right. He let his hands rest gently on the keys, played a light scale up and down, suddenly nervous (_what if he were to mess up in front of __him?)_, then he remembered.

Jem only realized how close he was to Will at that moment, when Will began to play. The raven haired man was as in tuned to music as he, his face relaxed, all the tautness in his muscles disappearing. He quite enjoyed seeing Will like this, so completely relaxed. He realized he'd not get the chance to see him like this often.

And this song! Oh, it was beautiful- like a the ripples made from a stone cast in dark water reflecting moonlight. Will was playing shattered starlight, angels' songs, slow, sweet, intimate. It was so beautiful. It was ages that Will played, it seemed, and yet no time at all. Jem wished he could listen to this beautiful song forever-

_Was that how Will felt when he had played?_

Jem's breath caught in his throat and the music abruptly stopped, and the spell was broken. Will was gazing steadily at his charge, eyes guarded. "James?"

"Nothing," Jem stifled a cough, but it came out anyway, and Will pulled trembling hands from pale lips and they were bloodstained, "I will be fine...it is merely a habitual sickness of mine. Since childhood."

Will's lips pursed and Jem had the strangest urge to kiss the worry from them. He banished the thought and stood quickly. "It is rather late."

"Yes," Will stood as well, graceful, and his eyes were averted. "I will wake you at seven."

"But-" seeing the steely look in his bodyguard's eyes, Jem frowned in acceptance, "fine. _Wǎn'ān._"

Will nodded, pushing the heavy door open and slipping out behind his charge, snuffing the light, watching as the silvery haired boy slipped into his room. He let the smile slip onto his face only then, with no-one to see. "Goodnight, Jem."

* * *

Breakfast.

Jem pointed to the plate of steaming dumplings. "_Baozi_. They have pork, beef and vegetables inside," then he nodded to the bowls of sauce, "soy sauce, chili sauce, vinegar and sesame oil."

"Anything to drink?"

"Bean juice, and soy milk. Water, too."

A sip of the bean juice. It was sweet with a slightly sour aftertaste. Will decided he could tolerate it, but it wouldn't really be his first choice. The _baozi_ was better; the pork was sweet and the beef slightly salty, the vegetables rich and soft, sweet as well. Will found, surprisingly, he was full after only four dumplings. Jem had only two, but he said he was used to the diet and usually could only eat one.

"This afternoon, my fiance is coming." Jem's voice was quiet, and he stood and turned on his heel, leaving the table. Will followed closely and he realized that, despite his appearances, the younger man was scared. Will could see why, but it was his duty to be wedded, to refuse would be disastrous. A long sigh from the silver haired man and he turned to Will, an apology in his eyes.

"Have I showed you the gardens yet?"

"Only the music room, James." Said patronizingly, but with no real bite.

Jem nodded slowly, a smile in his eyes as he turned away again, his bare feet nearly silent against the wooden floors. "I must speak with you, in private." He spoke in perfect English, his voice low. It spoke of a secret to be told; Will felt uncomfortable by that- to be trusted completely by a charge was highly unusual. The last person to do that…

_Cece._

Jem was staring now, puzzled, and Will pushed those thoughts away. He nodded and followed Jem back to his room, but just before the door, Jem turned left, down an unfamiliar hallway. The only sound in the quiet hallway was the whispering of their feet against the floor. Then, another door, a screen one this time. Jem pushed the thin divider aside and stepped outside, Will at his heels.

He couldn't help staring: they were standing on a wooden deck, which led down a short series of stairs to a sanded pathway, leading in a loose circle around a lake. He could see fish in the water, a turtle, and leaves and flowers floated on the surface. Jem was already yards away and Will hurried to catch up, his grip tightening convulsively around the hilt of the knife at his waist. They paused at a smooth stone bench and Jem sat carefully, gazing at the lake solemnly. The leaves' shadows dappled his face and Will stared, confusion wrinkling his brow.

"I am dying, William."

_Dying?_ The word made Will again clutch his knife, his knuckles slowly turning white as Jem continued.

"My parents had made many enemies during their lives, and I was only twelve when they were killed. Yanluo—the man that killed my parents—kidnapped me. When my parents came, they were knocked out, tied up. And Yanluo, he," Jem paused here, then continued, "tortured them through me. He injected a poison into me...I was told I was hallucinating. All I remember is the intense pain," he stopped again, and with a broken sigh, began again, "one day, when I was conscious, they were dead. I was rescued weeks later, but my body had been addicted to the drug. I need to take it regularly, but...taking it also kills me. I do not have long, William."

Will was silent, and Jem glanced over at his bodyguard. His face was stiff, his eyes steely, solemn. Jem heard the quiet _snick_ of a knife being drawn and saw Will worrying the blade of a knife with his fingers. A bead of blood broke skin as Will's thumb ran over the tip of the blade, but he didn't seem to notice.

Jem gazed at Will's hands, now moving restlessly. They were scarred and calloused from years of hard work- Jem knew those hands had helped shed innocent blood, but he didn't care. Maybe before, but the way Will had played music, oh, he could forgive him of almost anything. He had watched Will play his beloved piano, his fingers dancing over the keys, almost as if they moved on their own, every sound created like an angel's song. Playing his instrument required reach and precision, along with timing and grace and patience.

Jem shivered involuntarily. He could well imagine Will playing his body like that, manipulating each sound he might make until he was satisfied, until Will himself had come undone. He forced himself to look away from those hands, and up to admire Will's lanky body. Will was almost a head taller than him, whipcord lean with harsh angles and shallow curves, light muscles decorating ruddy, scarred skin. As he shifted, Jem saw the muscles ripple beneath his skin, and Will let out a long sigh.

"That is why they want to wed you so early." his voice was emotionless.

A curt nod. "They wish for me to have a son. If I die before that, Elias will be Emperor."

"Which is why there have been no attacks. They know you are dying already." It sounded cold, but Will didn't—couldn't—care. Not now.

"I suppose," Jem was looking at him curiously, "but why are you so calm?"

"Death hardly surprises me, James. My first glimpse of death was also in my twelfth year." Will decided to tell the story, "My elder sister, Ella, protected me. She was shot and died the next morning. I left that day, and I have not seen any of them since. I became an…(a what, exactly? An assassin? A bodyguard? A hitman?) armed escort to keep that from happening to anyone else."

"Armed escort?" Jem sounded amused.

"Bodyguard, hitman, contract killer...take your pick. I do what is asked without questioning."

"But why?"

"When you live on the streets, you learn to do what is told, no questions asked. Shoot first, question later."

"But why a killer?"

Will looked at Jem with steady eyes and said in a quiet voice, "Did you know, Yanluo is dead?"

Jem jerked involuntarily. "He is?" He didn't know whether he was glad or...or _what_, though?

"I was part of the team that tracked and killed him. The leader, actually."

"Ah…" Jem nodded slowly, "so killing can be a good thing."

"Only in certain circumstances. But rarely."

"So-"

"_Shàoyé zhānmǔsī! Nǐ de wèihūnfū zài zhèlǐ_!"

Jem cursed under his breath and stood, spinning to Will, worry bright in his eyes. "Do I look okay?"

_Beautiful_, Will thought, but he said nothing. "You look fine."

Slight sadness in silvery eyes, but Jem just nodded and turned away. "Thank you."

...

The girl had chestnut brown hair in a low bun, strands curling around her pale neck. Her eyes were a curious gray-blue, and she fidgeted with a golden angel charm around her neck.

"Hello," she said, a thick American accent in her voice.

Jem nodded to her, "Hello."

The girl's gaze flicked to Will and he merely nodded.

"My name is Tessa. Tessa Gray." Her gaze was on Will, uncomfortably sharp.

"Ke Jian Ming. But call me James." If Will noticed Jem hadn't said to call him Jem, he didn't show it. "And my 'armed escort', William." Will didn't smirk like Jem did at the term.

* * *

"_Tánghúlu_," Jem was saying to Tessa, "try some."

A moment, then she spoke, delight in her voice. "It's sweet!"

"Yes," Jem sounded amused, "hawthorn berries and candied fruit." He spoke again, but his voice was low and Will couldn't—wouldn't—hear. Watching the two peruse through the garden, Jem pointing out all the little things, Tessa giggling at what he said, was painful. Sure, it didn't hurt as much as the time he'd taken a bullet in the shoulder for Gabriel, or the time he'd been stabbed through both hands with rusted knives and left for dead by an ex (god, she was crazy) or left in Maureen's "sandpaper room" for nearly four days (she was a psychopath, he was glad she'd been killed), but this wasn't physical pain, and Will couldn't handle this kind of pain.

He knew he could have left the two of them alone for this short period, but the pain of watching them together was turning into a masochistic pleasure; and he found he couldn't leave. His dagger was in his fingers again (Will found it always there now, the tips of his fingers had little scars now from accidentally straying to the tip of the blade) and he rubbed the flat of the blade with his thumb, hating the way she looked at him, the way he looked at her. He was already forgotten, that night in the music room a memory tossed in the back of Jem's mind. It was so painful he nearly cried aloud and instead let the blade cut into the skin of his palm. It would definitely leave a mark, but he didn't care, the fingers of his other hand digging into the skin of his knee. He was trembling, he realized, and it all hurt, hurt so bad-

"-Will!" It was Jem, Will realized, he was staring up into the tree Will sat in, his eyes lit in worry.

Silently, Will let himself drop from the branch and landed in a crouch, rising to the scowl on Jem's face. "What is this?" Confusion. Then Jem took Will's right hand in his, and Will realized the knife was still lodged in his flesh. Tessa let out a weak gasp and murmured something about fainting and Jem turned to her as Will tore the blade from his palm, bending to wipe the blade on the grass. He stood to see Jem gazing at him, the frown still there, his eyes soft.

"Let me see."

Wordlessly, Will held out his hand, and Jem didn't even flinch as he looked at the gash going all the way through Will's hand. Blood dripped through the hole and splattered on the ground, and it was getting all over Jem's slim fingers, but he didn't seem to mind.

"Tessa, I will be in my room with William. We have some cleaning to do. I will rejoin you later. I apologize."

Tessa nodded, a worried frown wrinkling her brow. "I will be in my room as well, James."

* * *

"What were you thinking?" Will could tell Jem was mad, but he couldn't seem to care.

"It does not matter."

"William, _please._" He sounded tired now.

"Do you ever feel so alone," Will spoke in a low voice. He gazed at the blood staining the sheets, not feeling anything, "that you doubt your own existence?"

After a long moment, Will heard the rustle of clothing and felt the bed sag slightly under the weight of Jem sitting next to him. "Will, I do not understand-"

"Of course. Forget it. It was a stupid thing to say. I apologize." Will stood to leave, but Jem grabbed the back of his shirt and held him back.

"No, William. I get it-"

"No! You have not lived as hard a life as I, you have no idea what it's like to see the people you love die in front of you! To see them taken from you, in front of your very eyes, and you can do _nothing_! You have no idea! To be forgotten by the ones closest to you, to watch as every promise is broken...they all leave. You will too, and forget me too." The anger faded as suddenly as it'd came, "I apologize. I will go."

"William!" There was determination in Jem's voice now, and Will stopped at the sheer force of it. A silly thought, _now he's behaving like an emperor,_ but then Jem was right in front of him, and cool lips were on his, slim, warm hands on his face.

"I will never forget you, William." Jem tilted his face up, inviting, and Will's left hand flushed Jem closer to him, their mouths meeting again in a bruising kiss. And suddenly, Jem let out a gasp at he was shoved onto his bed and Will was sitting atop him, and this time their kiss was lazy, and Jem found that Will tasted of lips and tongue and teeth and desire. He found he wanted, wanted, _wanted,_ and now he was the one above Will, and a smirk was pressed into Jem's lips before Will bit down hard, and Jem heard a low laugh rumble through Will's chest at the whimper he involuntarily made. And then Will's lips were on his neck and throat and Jem reeled back, coughs racking his thin body. Blood spattered across his hands and Jem nearly choked, rolling off Will to shudder against the sheets, blood dripping from his lips.

"The box," he managed to pant out.

Will rolled from the bed and went to the dresser, the jade box glaring up at him, and he thrust it at Jem, ignoring the pain lancing through his hand. With shaking hands, Jem drew himself a dosage and took it, his racking coughs subsiding. Now they sat silently next to each other, Jem's heavy breathing the only sound in the room.

"I apologize," Jem murmured, after what seemed like years of loaded silence.

"No, I kept you from your...drug. I...I will go." This time, Jem made no move to stop him.

* * *

The days went by swiftly, and Jem grew closer and closer to Tessa, only speaking to Will when he had to. Will's hand was healing slowly, and although he couldn't really use it for anything, he still did, when Jem wasn't looking. He couldn't let a wound like this stop him from doing anything. And it was nothing compared to Maureen's sandpaper room.

He stressed the point to Jem, but his charge wouldn't allow Will to do anything about it, and, with a steely glare, ordered Will to rest. Because, he said, there had been no attack since Yanluo. Nothing could happen now. And he was right, nothing was happening, just the general bustle of the upcoming wedding.

_Wedding._

It made Will sick, to think of it. Jem seemed happier, lighter, around Tessa. As if that stolen kiss had meant nothing to him. Will tried to put it out of his mind, but that one moment- it was ingrained on his memory. He wouldn't ever forget that, or the promise Jem had made.

He realized what a fool he was, for believing it.

* * *

Another week passed, full of lazy days and target practice, idly sharpening knives and cleaning guns, resting his hand and working out, going for long runs and following Jem and Tessa wherever they pleased. It was then when Jem finally spoke to him as they rode on horseback.

"We are getting married."

"As suspected."

Jem kept his tone short, but his eyes belied his eagerness. "The day after tomorrow. And after, we shall take a trip to Wales, and you will-"

"Be gone." It came out harsher than Will expected but that only benefited him, "I will take my leave directly after the wedding."

"But-"

"My job here was to protect you until the wedding. When that is gone, so shall I be. You have no need of me, not when you have-" he swallowed the word _her_, no need to sound jealous, "other capable hands. Ones that are not already stained with innocent blood."

Jem stopped his horse short and it neighed indignantly; Jem petted a pale cream mane before murmuring calm words to it in Chinese. Then he slipped off of it and turned to Will. "Walk with me."

Obediently, Will slid off his own horse, a slight smile twitching at the corner of his mouth as it nudged at him with its nose. He followed Jem down the hill and into the grove of trees that he'd seen many times before but hadn't gone into, and Jem sat, after a long while of silent walking, on a fallen log. It was only then that Will noticed the slight mark on the side of his neck.

"Your neck," he murmured, reaching out to touch it, not missing Jem's shudder.

Jem sounded stiff as he spoke. "I do not use a shoulder rest, for my violin. It is a permanent bruise."

"Now why did you call me out here?"

Jem didn't answer, just took Will's hand in his. The wound was closing up, and Jem traced the ragged edges. "You heal fast."

"Yes," Will spoke impatiently, "I have been that way my whole life. Plus, with all the injuries I have been through…"

A slow nod. "What would make you stay?"

"Nothing. I cannot, James, I wish I could, _fy cariad_, but I cannot."

"What did you call me?"

Crap. "I- it is a term of endearment."

"Like _xiǎo lǎopó_?"

"Not quite," Will felt himself flush at the term, "and I am not your mistress. It was only one kiss."

"Maybe to you, but not to me…" Jem's voice trailed off, "but alas, I am to be married. I just…" he looked up at Will, his eyes reflecting his hope. His lips were slightly parted, inviting. _Please,_ he mouthed, _kiss me_.

Will hovered over Jem, uncertain, and the chaste meeting of lips was broken by Jem standing abruptly, one slim hand carding through Will's hair, the other curling tightly into the fabric of the shirt Will wore, keeping him close even as Will's hands wrapped around Jem's waist, pulling the younger closer, closer. It was pent up frustration, perhaps, that made Will back them into a tree, kissing Jem with even more fervor, his hands sliding under Jem's shirt; he drew away to slip the thin shirt off and Jem was gasping for air now, his lips sliding back onto Will's, a now familiar touch. Now Jem's hands were roaming, gently brushing against all the skin he could, a low growl rumbling through his throat as his fingers came to Will's belt. Will smirked into the kiss, the delighted sighs through Jem's nose encouraging him to slide his lips to Jem's neck, marking him low on his collarbone. Now Will managed to wedge one of his legs between Jem's and a broken gasp flew from the heir's lips and curses gasped in Chinese dribbled from trembling lips and as Jem said, low in Chinese, "_Wǒ ài nǐ_," Will wrenched away, guilt instantly consuming him.

"No- no, James, stop."

Jem, shirtless, shivering now that the adrenaline had faded, glared up at Will, arms crossed over his chest. "What?"

"You are to be married."

"Yes, but-"

"James, no. Your duty is to your country-"

"_Fuck_ the country!" Jem burst out, "I could care less about the damn country right now! I want you, I _need_ you!"

Wavering will, but Will steeled his nerves. "Your duty is to your country," he repeated, "and mine is to protect you. I cannot risk that for a simple carelessly handled emotions."

"No one will attack me! No one has, since Yanluo!"

Which was particularly what Lady Camille had said, and yet-

"My last charge," Will hissed out, "was as foolish as you. No, more foolish. She insisted the same thing, that no one had dared attack her since she had risen into power, and yet-" Will let out a shuddering breath, allowing himself to remember, "she died. Because she was as foolish as you. She abandoned me for merely an hour, and when I found her, she was dead. And I was careless- had left all my weapons back at her room, and _Maureen_," he spat out her name, "knew that. She had me knocked unconscious, put me in her 'sandpaper room'. What was her room, precisely? A person is put into a room with slow moving sand-paper at the bottom. There is no way out. You have to keep walking, and once you get too tired to move, you fall, and get scraped by the sandpaper floor and the wall. I was left in there for four days before they found me, four days without food or water or a bathroom- I had been trained in that, but barefoot? Walking all the while, without sleep, or falling? I lost consciousness, I was told, hours before they found me." Will, enraged now, kicked off his boots and pulled up his pant legs. Scars littered his legs and feet from where the skin had been scraped and scraped away.

Jem managed a low gasp, but Will continued, "And a time prior to that, I had to watch a set of brothers who were being targeted by their father—which is a long story that I will not get into—but I had to take a bullet to the shoulder for the elder one, because he was stupid to believe that his father would stop trying to kill them if they _talked it over._ And another time, when I was stabbed with rusted knives through both hands and left for dead- though that was partly my fault. That was what I got for falling for a charge." With each revelation, Will revealed the scars littering his body, not even caring that Jem grew paler and paler with each sentence, that he was crying now, tears leaking from betrayed silvery eyes.

"But I did not have anything to do with them!" The accusation rang out.

Will didn't answer, just spun away. "Because I stopped you. I do not need another scar." Whether physical or emotional, he thought. Then a bitter smile, _Ella would kill me if I spoke to her like that._

* * *

The day of the wedding. Three days after Will's outburst. Jem hadn't spoken to him since, and his affection for Tessa made the wedge between them grow further. There was no more Will, no more Jem- just William and James. Tessa noticed, but there was nothing she could do, really, had she known about the extent of Jem and Will's...relationship, she would've paled with shock. But certainly she was suspicious of something. That was what Will liked about her- she was rather sharp, and he had noticed her looks. Jem was a lucky man, to wed her-

But then again, he was dying.

Somehow, the thought bothered him more than it should have.

"Will, William!" Tessa's voice rang out and Will turned to see her running down the garden path to him.

"Yes?"

"James, whatever is wrong with him?"

"I do not know." Will turned away from her at the mention of her fiance.

"Yes you do, William- drop the facade. I will not tell. He and you...have been rather tense of late. It bothers him, and I can see it bothers you as well. It is rather foolish-"

"Keep out of things you know nothing of."

"So I was right, there is something. What?"

"Do not ask questions you do not want to know the answers to."

"But I do want to know!"

"No, Tess, you do not." He realized he'd given her a nickname (just like he'd given Jem) but he didn't care. Neither did she- in fact, she blushed, and spoke again.

"Please, William."

"No- it does not matter anyway, I will take my leave directly after the wedding."

"Ah." she sounded disappointed, "nothing will make you stay?"

Will reeled back at that (_it was exactly what Jem had said_) and nodded slowly. "I apologize. I have a heavy price on my head."

"Oh?"

"Yes...have you heard of the mafia leader Woolsey Scott?"

"No…"

"Well, he and his...pack have been trying to kill me for years, since I killed his elder brother Ralf...he was having a relationship with Lady Camille—another one of my charges—and he needed to get out of the picture. So they are hunting for me all the while. So is Alexei de Quincey, also a mafia leader, and his partner, Axel Mortmain. And so are the Dark Sisters, the heads of the Pandemonium Club. Rather," he laughed bitterly, "most of the club is after me for various reasons. I cannot have your pretty head get caught up in that."

Tessa flushed again, but nodded slowly. "I understand. But how did you get caught up in all of that dreadful business?"

"That is an awfully long story, _fy annwyl_, and I fear I have no time to tell it. Besides, you have a wedding to get ready for."

"Ah! I nearly forgot! I was caught up in the most wonderful book by Charles Dickens-"

"Would it happen to be A Tale of Two Cities?"

Gray eyes lit up in delight. "Yes! I just got to the part where Darnay confesses to Lucie, and Darnay tells Manette his love to Lucie will not break their bond. Oh, I love this book!"

_Remarkable_, Will thought. Both Sydney Carton and Charles Darnay were in love with Lucie Manette, but Carton gave up his life so Darnay could marry—much like Will, and Jem, and Tessa. The whole situation made a wry smile come to his lips and Tessa misinterpreted it for their shared love of the book.

"-So please, make up with James," she was saying, "if not for his sake, for mine?"

A short nod. He wasn't sure if he would, but he couldn't bear breaking her heart, not like he'd broken Jem's. A pleased smile from Tessa and she spun on her heel, tossing her final words over her shoulder. "See you at the wedding!"

...

She was beautiful, in a shining gold dress with a white trim, Jem placed a similarly gold flower in her hair and she blushed, her eyes darting to Will, and she smiled at him, not faltering at the stony glare that was his reply. He did, however, nod slightly, which only brightened her grin.

Jem's silvery eyes flicked over to Will, who was standing in the back of the garden, arms crossed, body tense. All his weapons were on him, and Will fiddled with that familiar knife again. He felt worried. Something was wrong. Collete, Jem's aunt, was looking overjoyed, but Elias...he was scowling moodily, his gaze constantly flicking to his watch, as if…And then he stood, and walked as quietly as he could back inside.

_Trap_, Will thought, just as there was a scream from the back, then the dull thud of a knife sinking into flesh, and the scream cut off abruptly. Now there was pandemonium, and Jem clutched Tessa to him, both sinking to the ground as everyone else ran around screaming. Will could see no attackers, so he ran over to Jem and murmured, "Take her to your room and _do not,_ under any circumstances, open the door. Even if it is me. Hide her under your bed and hide in the closet, and stay there. Not a sound from either of you. And remember what I taught you. Now go, _go_!" Shoving two knives at Jem, Will watched as they ran inside. _Good,_ he thought, now…

When he turned, there was a slender man staring back at him, his skin icy pale, his hair white-blond, nearly colorless. His eyes were cold, dark, and Will smirked. "Alexei de Quincey."

"William Herondale." There was a light Slavic accent to his voice, and de Quincey curled his lip. "Disgusting brat."

"Good to see you too," Will quipped, turning to the other man, "and Axel Mortmain! What surprise!" voice dripping with sarcasm.

The other man merely nodded coldly. "I suppose you know why we are here," he began.

"To try and kill me? Do you think you can keep up? I hardly think those old bones of yours can handle a good fight."

"And that is precisely why we have her." The girl that stepped out from behind Mortmain made Will gasp. His face fell and he shook his head.

"No, not you…"

Blonde curls shook as Jessamine Lovelace, Will's once partner and best friend, nodded. "If I had known it would be you…" there was sorrow in her eyes, an apology, but resolution.

And Will knew her well enough to know that she wouldn't back down from a fight. Not until she died. Amber eyes blinked slowly and she smiled slightly. "Still, I am glad to see you again."

"Yes, I missed you as well, Jessie." Will couldn't help a sad smile, wishing he had come back for her, too.

"Enough," de Quincey snarled, "kill him, or else your Nathaniel-"

"I get it!" Jessamine snapped, eyes flashing angrily. Will again couldn't help smiling. That was the Jessie he'd known, fought beside. "I apologize, William."

"As do I." Will knew it'd be harder than he thought, they'd fought beside each other for years, she knew him as well as he knew himself. It'd take the utmost concentration and skill to beat her, and he didn't know how much she'd trained. Likely, the most she could, pushing herself to the limit. Though she had been quite lazy-

And then she was on him, a flurry of blonde ringlets and amber eyes, wielding something new, two electrum whips. They both flickered with electricity, and Will knew one hit would gravely wound him. Not enough to kill, but a few hits in the right places...he retreated in a series of flips, discarding his knives for a clip-point sword in each hand. He found himself smirking as he dodged both whips, and saw she was as well. It was just like their childhood, he mused, except for real this time. It excited him, sent the blood roaring in his ears. Her whip caught his wrist and she jerked harshly, and Will cried out at the shock of electricity that tore through him. He knew his wrist was broken now, and he threw the sword at her, a clumsy throw, on purpose. She ducked and in that instant, he charged, ignoring the pain of his wrist as he drew a handful of shuriken from his belt and threw. One hit Jessamine's shoulder, the other her collarbone. One hit directly between de Quincey's eyes, and the other thunked against a tree. Jessamine stumbled back, trembling, but ignoring the wounds.

"Bastard," she hissed, no real mirth in her eyes. Tossing aside the whip, Jessamine drew her longsword. _Pity she was left-handed_, Will thought, pulling out a dagger.

A cocky laugh. "Is that all you have left? The great William Herondale, reduced to a single dagger?" Now the side of Jessamine he'd hated was back. Careful aim, and threw, just as Will suddenly grew dizzy, his vision blurring. A dull thud, the spurt of blood. Silence. Will's eyes opened and he saw his aim was true- the dagger was lodged deep in Jessamine's throat, and she gazed at him now, still gasping for air. Now the guilt came.

"No, Jessie! Jess!" he collapsed at her side and she raised a trembling hand to rest on his, her eyes apologizing. "No, I apologize, for everything, I-" his voice broke in a dry sob, and she smiled weakly, nodding slightly, affirmation.

"I…" blood bubbled at her lips, "will miss you…"

"I will too, oh, Jessie, I love you, so, so much…!" He knew she was dying, there wasn't anything to prevent that, but losing her...though she'd accepted her fate (perhaps went in knowing she'd die), it hurt. "Jessie, I quit. I will not take another innocent life as long as I live, I swear it, I swear to you."

She was pleased, he could tell, her smile seemed to grow, the faintest pressure of her hand on his. And then that pressure was gone, and the light from her eyes had faded, and the only person that William Herondale trusted with his life was dead.

* * *

Remembering his instructions to Jem, Will kicked open the door. The room was disheveled, but Tessa was still under the bed. He helped her up and she called, "James?"

Jem clambered from the closet, his eyes brightening as he saw Will. "Will-!" his elation died at the blood spattered over Will. "What happened?"

"Where is Elias?" Will growled instead.

"What? I saw him pass us, he went to his room. Why?"

Not answering, not even bothering to give an explanation, Will stormed from the room, barking out a final order, "Be careful, there might still be people here."

Jem called out again, but Will slammed the door, pulling a gun from his hip holster. He hadn't used it before, simply because that was not their way- it was dishonorable, they had been trained, to use a weapon that required no skill. A single push of a button, that's all it was. But with the way his hand was...Will hissed as he jarred it accidentally, pain flaring up to spread throughout his whole body like fire.

He heard low voices from the corner ahead and he tread quietly, his hand on the gun, his other close to the belt of daggers. He rounded the corner and saw Elias talking to Axel Mortmain. Unsurprising. While he had the advantage of surprise, he took two daggers and threw- with his bad hand. One hit Axel Mortmain dead between the eyes, his grunt of surprise was his dying noise. The other would've hit Elias, but the man dodged smoothly, not surprised to see Will.

"Ah, William," he said, distaste permeating his voice, "I would have liked for you to have died along with Mortmain and his...horde."

"The feeling is rather mutual," Will quipped, swaying slightly on his feet. The exhaustion was getting to him, the adrenaline fading. He was painfully aware of his wounds, that he wouldn't last long in a fight.

And Elias knew it too.

"Why did you do this?"

"James is not fit for this. He is too gentle, too sickly." There was an odd gleam in his eyes as he said the last word-

"You were the one who…"

"You are rather intelligent," a bow of a head, sarcastically, "too much for your own good."

"But why?"

"He is not fit," Elias insisted, "not as much as my own son, Alastair."

"So this was all so your son could be emperor?"

A slight nod, and a scowl as Will began to laugh. "You are rather silly," the raven haired insisted, "to risk all this for a throne. And where is this Alastair anyway?"

"With his mother, in Idris."

"And what will you do when Jem finds out-"

"He will not. You are as good as dead, it will not take much to finish you off."

"And you will be the one to do it? Unlikely."

The corners of Elias' mouth turned down in a dark scowl, and all he said was, "We shall see." Two daggers were thrown and Will dodged each, but he cursed as Elias was upon him (_just a goddamn distraction, fuck!_) and as Will made to shoot, Elias grabbed his arm and flipped him, the gun skidding away. Stars spun in Will's vision at the pain of his wrist, and Elias took the chance to grab the gun; Will swore again and got up, ducking behind a nearby pillar as the elder man shot multiple times. Out of rounds- Will sprinted to him and grasped him around the waist, aiming to knock him into the wall, but he was still weak from the various hits he'd recieved earlier and he heard the cracking of Elias' neck and then he was kneed in the gut and tossed like a doll, but he managed to tuck into a roll and grab the gun, shooting with his bad hand, scrabbling for the knife in his boot with his good hand. In a series of flips, Elias retreated, and when Will came at him again, he was caught, but he finally managed to get the knife and plunged the blade into Elias' leg.

Not even a single grunt came out, he just took out the blade and threw it down, the muscle of his jaw twitching. Dodged the bullets and the high kick Will sent at his face, sending the other spinning. Heard rapid footsteps and brought his arm up to block (the bad one, he realized, too late) and a knife was plunged in deep.

"_Guh_-!" Pain was overwhelming his every sense and Will stood, trembling, vision blurring. With another shout, he managed to yank the knife out as Elias came forward and drove it right between the eyes. Then he allowed himself to sink to his knees as another wave of pain came crashing over him, and-

"Will!" The call was urgent. It was Jem, Will noticed dimly, practically screaming in his ear.

"Wha-?"

"Will! I thought you were…!" Jem didn't say the last word. Dead.

"Far from it." Will hid his bad arm. Jem would've made a scene if he knew.

"But you are covered in blood, and uncle-"

"Was the one that set it all up. Everything. Yanluo, today, everything."

Silvery eyes darkened. Sad eyed angel, Will again thought. Wordlessly, Jem picked up the gun from the ground and fired shot after shot at Elias' unmoving body, unflinching as blood spattered on his face, at each loud shot. When the gun was empty, Jem sank to his knees, a dry sob bursting out.

"I trusted him…"

Will stood and touched his shoulder gently. "Go to Tessa. Shower, then rest. I will clean this up. And be on your guard." Jem nodded stiffly and went away.

Will didn't realize how high his pain threshold was- at that moment his legs collapsed from under him and he had to bite his lip to keep from crying aloud. The taste of blood was in his mouth and he hurriedly went to the room provided for him, taking out his kit and undressing and going to shower. Water all the way up as hot as it could, soothing bruises and cuts, washing blood and dirt and whatever else from his skin; Will stood for a long while, just basking in this moment of relaxation. After a long while, he began examining his new wounds.

The hole in his hand was practically healed, except for a scabbing over. There would most likely be a permanent mark there, but he didn't care. His arm, where it had been stabbed, was an ugly bluish purple color, and blood soaked his skin, only to be washed away by the water. He took a bandage and wrapped it as tight as it could go, ignoring the flare of pain. As for his broken wrist- with a grunt, he corrected its alignment. That would be better with rest. His hair hung in his face and Will shook it out of his eyes. He'd have to cut it soon, he realized, the curls were unruly as ever, but longer now, and it wouldn't do to keep having to brush it from his eyes every moment, especially in a fight-

But then he remembered his promise to Jessamine. But what to tell Jem…?

* * *

They convened in the music room, Jem in a fresh white silk shirt and black pants, Will in his usual all black attire, Tessa in a simple white dress.

"Now what?" was all she said. Her eyes were puffy from crying, but other than that, she was completely composed. Will found he admired that. Just like Ella.

"You two must wed, and I must leave." Will broke the silence, ignoring Jem's cry of shock.

"But-"

"No. My contract is up. You shall be safe when you are wedded, then you will have all the forces of Shanghai to your will. There is no need for me then."

"But I-" Jem's eyes finished what he could not say. I love you. I need you.

"You have her now," Will said, more gently. "And I cannot. I would if I could, but...your duty is to your country."

"And yours?"

"I must find my sister."

Tessa had watched the exchange silently, with knowing eyes. "I apologize for breaking your...bond."

"No- it was never meant to be. Will is right." Jem took her hand reassuringly, purposely not looking at Will. "But if you ever need me- us, just come."

"I will." They both knew it was a lie; they'd never see each other again. Will stood then, and Tessa and Jem rose with him.

Outside, at the front gates of the palace.

"Goodbye, William. I wish I could have known you better," Tessa said politely, a sad smile on her face. Will took her hand and kissed it, slipping a piece of paper into her hand as he did.

"The pleasure was mine."

Will turned to Jem, who looked close to tears, and held out his hand for a shake, but Jem rushed into his arms and hugged him fiercely. "_Wǒ ài nǐ, ó, wǒ shì duōme ài nǐ, wǒ zuì qīn'ài de Wēilián_."

Hesitantly, stroking silken hair, Will murmured back, "_Wǒ yě ài nǐ, Zhānmǔsī._" And stepping back, Will raised his hand in a show of farewell, and began to walk away. He didn't look back.

* * *

It was late at night, so late the sun had set hours ago. That was when the call came. A slim hand reached for the buzzing phone, and handed it to another.

"What."

"There's a job-"

"Not interested." he was about to hang up, but X interrupted, "You mustn't refuse, William."

"And whyever not?"

"They'll kill her if you don't."

Will passed the phone back to the first person, who spoke, clearly, evenly, though there was a smile in her voice. "No, they won't."

Will hung up.

* * *

**All the foods I've mentioned are real foods, you can look them up. I did my research, haha. Elias being evil, he's not (I hope) in the books, but looking at the portrait of Alastair Carstairs...he looked evil. And if it was genetics, that'd make Elias the prime candidate. I know I mixed some TID and TMI stuff (Maureen, mainly) and I know some characters were kinda really OOC, but hey.**

**The fight between Will and Elias was inspired by the fight in Resident Evil: 4 (which you should definitely watch) between Wesker and Claire/Chris. If you go on youtube and look up "wesker fight scene" it's the first video (by BlockABoots). The song Will played was Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, movement 1.**

**I sort of see de Quincey as Viktor from Underworld; looks-wise. And speech-wise.**

**What Will gave Tessa? I suppose you can leave that to your imagination. Maybe I'll write about that later, but for now, you can decide.**

**...**

**I know it's not as much Heronstairs as some of you would like, but don't worry; it's definitely coming.**

**Reviews are much appreciated, and if there's any questions, I'll PM you or post answers on the following chapter. And don't worry, this is gonna be a _long_ series.**


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